


Employee of the Month

by FeralCreature



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed (Video Game), Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jacob in an apron, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralCreature/pseuds/FeralCreature
Summary: “Would the employee of the month get a reward, per chance?” Jacob’s voice dropped into a low husky baritone and you felt goosebumps rise in your skin.You took his glass- not breaking eye contact with him- as you set them both down and smirked, “Perhaps, we’d have to discuss this in the office.”





	Employee of the Month

If there was one thing London never had missing: it was the rain… and the unending mischief caused by none other than the Frye twins.

Your eyes narrowed at the chaos ensuing at what was once your modest bakery on an unassuming corner in Westminster. Flour strewn everywhere, blanketing the street with what looked like snow- except it was in the middle of August and the sun shone out as bright as ever. 

Your fists clenched, leather gloves straining under the pressure and you turned around to look at the culprit who was equally blanketed in a coating of powder.

“Jacob…” you growled out menacingly, your frilly apron held to your side but the way you grasped it with both hands made it seem like it could be the most dangerous weapon in the world. 

“Look, love, (y/n), I didn’t know. Honest mistake, really!” Jacob put his hands up while sporting that trademark cheeky grin. 

“How-” you threw your hands up in the air, not caring if the Queen of England herself heard you as you screamed. 

“HOW DO YOU MISTAKE FLOUR FOR GUN POWDER?!” 

“Look, I’ll get the Rooks to clean it up and we’ll fix up your shop again!” He said as he backed up against the wall- or what was left of it. 

You held up three fingers at him, “Three times, Jacob Frye. Three times you’ve attacked my shop with some magnificent idea that always ends up going awry.” 

“Just-“ you began as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “just go Jacob, I’ll clean this up. I can’t handle seeing you right now.” 

Jacob frowned, creasing his handsome features as he tipped his top hat down before using his grappling hook to make a quick get away. 

~ 

You sweeped what was most of the flour off the cobblestone streets, not bothering to get in between the cracks as you disposed the flour in a rubbish bin. 

Sweat decorated your brow and you used your apron to wipe it off, leaving an unfortunate smear of flour behind. 

“Mum, we’ve come to help,” a gruff voice spoke behind you and you turned around to see a faction of Rooks, their signature yellow and green outfit showing off their loyalty to Jacob proudly. 

“Did Evie send you?” you inquired. 

“No mum, Sir Jacob did,” one of them said. 

“Well, if he’s truly sorry, then he can come here and fix this damn mess with his shirt off while singing the bloody anthem!” you found your temper flaring again but soon calmed yourself as you saw the hardened thugs flinch at your words.

You sighed, opening up the shop door and beckoning them in. “Well come in then, I’ll let you boys and gals have a gander for coming to help.” 

Whoops and hollers followed as they filled your bakery, immediately grabbing the fresh croissants that you laid out. 

“So what did you need help with, miss (y/n)?” A female rook asked in between mouthfuls of bread. You sighed as you pondered what other chore needed doing. 

“Mm well since I’ll be out of commission for a while, it’d be a waste to let this bread go to waste, so I’ll tell ya blokes what. You watch over my shop until I fix it up again and you’re free to grab whatever leftovers I have, how’s that sound?”

Cheers and agreements followed that announcers resounding yes amongst the group. 

“(y/n), were you really serious about Jacob wearing an apron to make up for things? Was it that bad this time?” They asked. 

“Once I can forgive, twice is a bit of an annoyance but thrice is unforgivable, I demand compensation for my suffering,” you pouted, hands on your hips.

“I want your boss here bright and early here to help me with repairs and baking,” you wondered aloud with lips pouted, your finger tapping your chin in a comedic fashion. 

“But he has to wear one of these,” you motioned at your white frilly apron that covered only your chest and upper thighs. 

“Aye, that’ll get things selling early- seeing the boss in a proper apron!” the female Rook laughed again with others soon joining her.

“I’m joking, I can fix this myself. I just need time away from those twins is all,” you smiled sweetly at the group, “but you all are welcome here of course.”

“Okay, you lot- get! I need to clean up this mess to open bright and early!” You shooed them off as you handed them extra bags of pastries. The sounds of their loud banter echoed on the streets, causing a smile to form on your face.

~  
You woke to the usual clamber of the city: birds chirping, paperboys calling the daily news, horses galloping against the stone, the clambering of pots as they dropped in your kitchen- 

Wait. What. 

You threw yourself out of bed, grabbing the pistol in your dresser before making your way downstairs. Checking if there was bullets in the chamber before cocking it as you sneaked into your kitchen. 

“Is the bread supposed to be this brown after 10 minutes? Oh, silly me, it’s not brown. It’s black,” an exasperated sigh emanated from the kitchen and you cocked your gun before aiming at whoever it was inside.

“Hm, ah good morning (y/n),” Jacob greeted you without looking up from his pot, studying his supposed bread that looked like it’s been harvested from the deepest coal mine in the world. 

You put the gun down, pinching yourself to make sure you weren’t experiencing some weird dream. 

The fact that Jacob was in your kitchen (after he claimed he would never attempt to enter one ever again) baking bread was not the shocking part to you, it was what he was wearing while doing so. 

The dainty apron that fit you so perfectly was now taut against his broad chest, the uneven knot swayed seductively over his tight trousers that accentuated his butt. 

The apron seemed to be struggling to hang onto his body as each time he bent down, his muscles flexed and threatened to break the thin straps. The frills barely covered his chest with a decent amount of hair covering it, as well as his raven tattoo on his left shoulder.

“I would offer you breakfast but this would serve us better as a weapon,” he laughed as he took the bread out of the pan and began to bang it against the ceramic wall- which to your surprise, didn’t break.

“Well, well, the boss himself has shown up to apologize, hm?” You smirked as you playfully tugged on the knot of his apron. 

He slapped your hand away and clicked his tongue at you, “At least buy me dinner first, slimy git!” 

It was then you burst out laughing and you squeezed his arm, “You never fail to make me laugh, Frye. I forgive you because you seem to be the most dedicated worker here.” 

~ 

You spent the day baking while you had Jacob patched up the wall in his ‘employee’ outfit, as you called it.

And as the Rooks predicted, a shirtless Jacob brought in more foot traffic into your store as usual. There were the regulars of course, but then new waves of women came in- talking loudly of how posh the bakery was but stealing side eyes at Jacob who grunted with each time he brought down the hammer. 

It didn’t help that his body was just so buff and each movement he made accentuated his body show you a new muscle that you didn’t know was there.

As much as you hated to admit it, you made more sales that day then you had in a long time since moving here.

You had to close early unfortunately, because your supply didn’t meet the demands of the masses of women who lined up outside your doors. 

Closing the door on giggling women who groaned with disappointment as you locked the doors on them with a small smile. 

You closed the curtains and turned the lights off to solidify the fact that you were closed for the day. 

“Good haul today, boss?” Jacob asked, sweat causing his shaggy brown hair to stick to his forehead.

“Yes, especially since someone attracted so many customers today,” you winked at him. 

He grinned, “Wonder who the handsome bloke is, can I meet him?”

“The money from today is enough to last my shop for a month or so, which is.. pleasant,” you said as you poured a glass of champagne for the both of you. 

“Cheers, Frye,” you toasted to him as he toasted back and you both drank up. 

“Would the employee of the month get a reward, per chance?” Jacob’s voice dropped into a low husky baritone and you felt goosebumps rise in your skin. 

You took his glass- not breaking eye contact with him- as you set them both down and smirked, “Perhaps, we’d have to discuss this in the office.” 

You winked at him as your eyes motioned upwards towards the stairs leading to your room. The mischievous glint that you came to love started to shine in his hazel eyes as you ran past him giggling. 

Heavy thuds of footsteps followed you up as you turned around to face him, hair askew and still wearing that silly apron. Your fingers quickly untied yours and you let it drop to the floor, beckoning a finger at him to come follow. 

And follow he did, he strived towards you and backed you up until your knees found the edge of the bed and you fell down with a soft groan. Sitting up on your elbows, you grabbed a fistful of his apron and pulled him down towards you, your lips ready to receive his. 

You could still taste the salty taste sweat on his lips as you moved his hair away from his brow.  
He took your hand and inhaled into your palm, “I love how your hands can be so soft even after that laborious work.” 

He knelt down over you and kissed your neck while inhaling deeply, “And the fact that you smell just so damn delicious.” 

“Get up Frye, were not done discussing your reward,” you said. Surprisingly, he obeyed and he sat upright next to you. 

Getting up, you crawled on all fours on top of him, forcing him to scoot farther back on the bed until he hit the headboard with a soft thud. 

Embracing his torso, you undid the knot and took his apron off, a smirk gracing your lips. 

The confusion on his face was short lived as you grabbed both of his arms and forced them against the wooden pole of the bed, tying them up securely with the apron.

“Such a romantic,” he scoffed as you began to undo his trousers next and throwing his boots off the bed. 

You leaned back onto your heels to admire your handiwork: the great leader of the Rooks, master Assassin, and the best brawler in London was tied up on her bed with a frilly white apron.

You struggled to hold back a laugh as you pulled your (h/c) up into a messy bun to begin unbuttoning your own blouse. You stripped them off slowly, fully aware that Jacob bit his lip to keep himself behaved.

“(y/n)...” he called out to you and you couldn’t resist the way your name rolled off of his tongue. You crawled slowly to him and straddled him, your mouth finding the soft spots of his neck to kiss.

A soft groan escaped his lips as you left nips down his neck, aiming to have a line of bruises bloom on him after this.

His erection began to grow under you and you smiled against his skin, grinding your heat against his crotch causing a string of grunts to exit him. 

The sound of straining fabric cut through the sounds of kissing and you looked to see Jacob’s flexed arms almost bursting at the seams. 

He looked down at you, his hazel eyes almost turning black as he growled, “You better hope these can hold me back, you’re going to regret trying to tease me.” 

You sat there, to shocked to do anything as the board creaked under the weight of Jacob’s pulling. Before you could do anything, you found yourself face down amongst your sheets and with your bare ass right in front of him. 

He grabbed at your hands and bonded them with what was left of the apron he broke, tracing his index finger of your left butt cheek. 

You heard a slight chuckle before he took his finger off and brought down his full hand to slap you on the ass. You let out a shocked moan, the stinging pain slowly turning into delayed pleasure.

“Kinky bastard, you always liked being treated like this don’t you, (y/n)?” He brought you up to where our bare back pressed against his chest and you felt the pulsing member in between your butt cheeks. 

“I’m going to get you back for embarrassing me like that today,” he laughed darkly, all signs of his usual humorous self were gone. He pushed your face into the sheets and guided his dick to your entrance. After a few strokes going up and down your entrance, he slammed himself in. 

“J-Jacob!” You yelled out, a mix of pleasure and pain in your voice.

“Call me, boss,” he muttered, taking his dick out of you and leaving your wanton pussy for more of him. 

“B-o-os, please, give it to me,” you mewled our weakly as he began to pummel into you in violent thrusts. Your bed moved with the rhythm of his hips, the squeaking of the wood against the wall filled the rooms as well as your wandering moans.

“Scream louder, I want all the neighbors to know who was here!” Jacob howled, grasping a fistful of your hair to rightfully adjust himself into you once more. His thumb pushed down on your clit as he slid two of his fingers inside, fingering you with his thrusts. 

You saw white as your hole was stretched out with the sheer size of this man’s penis in addition to his fingers. Your hands gripped the loose bed sheets, trying to find solace but to no avail as he continued rutting into you like an animal.

Peeking behind you to look at Jacob, you saw a man completely enamored in lust as he observed your leaking vaginal fluids coat his dick. He slid down on your body and began his final thrusts, looking at you to tell you he was about to come.  
“(y/n),” he groaned out as he grasped your hair and began to pump his dick slowly. 

You nodded and got on your knees to suck the fluids off of his cock, your tongue tracing the outline of him. Your mouth took him in whole and Jacob shut his eyes, groaning quietly as he released into your mouth- the salty taste of sperm littered your mouth. You stuck your tongue out at him and began to swallow it all, all while he was watching. 

He gulped loudly and kneeled down to your level, grabbing the blankets and covering you both. 

You snuggled up to his outstretched arm and inhaled his scent of gunpowder, booze, and London air. Your mind raced as you began to recount your day, starting from yesterday and you let out a chuckle. 

“What’s so funny, love?” Jacob asked, rubbing your arm. 

“You do know I was joking about the apron, right?” You smirked, eyes closing.

“Wait, what,” he cried out.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work of smut being published tbh (after years of keeping them in the archives) And fun fact: finely milled flour has the same affect as gun powder when lit. 
> 
> P.S let me know if anyone else wants to see the other ones I’ve written and if you have character requests!


End file.
